MaryKate's DenveRhetor Writing Workshop Reflection

While I talked to Professor Bateman briefly about my rhetorical analysis, and had some ideas on what I needed to improve upon, the writing workshop was still extremely helpful. Merely reading my paper aloud to a group of people and the nervousness that brings helped me realize where I could refine my language and etc. Yet the most helpful element of the workshop was the feedback from other students. The suggestions were all very apt, especially the observation that I needed to set a context for the situation (i.e. what and where is Power Invasion Ministries) and the suggestion on how to expand the actual analysis part of my peice. I wrote about ethos and pathos yet I did not explictly explain how the speaker employed them, and to what effect they had. Also, I have to say the remarks reassuring me of my unbiasness were a big confidence boost. So thank you! I am sure the final draft of my DenveRhetor peice will be much more sensible and much more of an analysis due to all of the feed back I got. So thank you again and I'm off to revise. :)

Hello Everyone!
We apologize for the course blog being a little late this week...Zach and I decided a great topic for the blog this week would be focusing on the Shapiro article we read in class last week. It seemed to be a very interesting article and seemed to affect the class as a whole. We noticed not everyone got a chance to speak in class so we wanted to take the opportunity to open the blog up to everyone's personal stories this week. Zach shared his story of parents and college in class however I did not. My parents are the opposite of Zach's, however they are not extreme parents...just caring parents. My mother was always reminding me of college application deadlines, essays, and things I needed to do while preparing for college. Orientation week and letting go was a very hard concept for my parents, they offer their opinions on class schedules and major decisions, but will support me in whatever I choose to do. They continue to call everyday twice a day just to check up and say they miss me, which I appreciate because I miss them too. I would classify my parents in the middle of the spectrum and I am very grateful for that. They have been a huge part of my success and will continue to be. Where do you classify your parents? Is this comfortable for you? Please share your stories!! Have A Great Week Everyone!

Kitchen Shift at Project Angel Heart
The night started with a frazzled drive to the kitchen of Project Angel Heart. A car had been borrowed, and directions map quested in a hurry. We hit the road, only to sit in traffic and hit every red light possible. Despite the terrible luck driving, we made it to the kitchen only five minutes late. We walked into the front office and a wildly welcoming woman stood up from her desk. She greeted us with great eagerness and then took us right to where we were supposed to be. We made it to the kitchen and met our new boss, Summer. She handed us matching, flowery aprons, and some most unattractive hats to wear.
Dressed appropriately, and with clean hands, we were given our first task. Putting hamburger buns in plastic bags. One bun. In one bag. Thrilling. We bagged two monstrous boxes of buns, joking amongst ourselves and laughing. The last bun found a new home in a plastic bag, and we all let out a sigh of relief.
Summer came over to investigate our work. She approved, and then extended an invitation to “pita land” to us. “Pita land.” Didn’t sound that bad, but the way everybody rolled their eyes lead one to think of it as a rather hellish task. We were guided to the walk-in refrigerator. Four huge boxes of pita met our eyes. The sight of the endless pita to be bagged made it clear why so many eyes had rolled at the mention of “pita land.”
We wheeled the pita over to our distant table and began bagging. And we kept bagging. One pita. In one bag. For what seemed like an interminable amount of time. After what seemed like an eternity, we completed our task. We then moved on to chopping peppers. This new job contained the thrill of wielding a sharp object.
By the time that was done, it was time for us to clean up. We wiped down tables, cleaned out what appeared to be an overused coffee maker and detangled a mess of aprons fresh from the drier. It took about four people working diligently to deal with the mess of aprons that had emerged from the drier. It wasn’t until these final tasks that we started to talk with the other volunteers and employees. Simple, yet amusing conversation was had. Who knew that watching the show Scrubs was considered a guilty pleasure? We finished our tasks and wished everybody a good night. They in turn thanked us for helping out and doing the jobs that nobody else wanted, but that needed to get done. It wasn’t until that moment that I felt like I had helped. For the three hours that I bagged and chopped, it didn’t register that I was helping to feed people. I was preparing food for people with life threatening diseases. Food for people who needed it in order to remain alive. Despite the boredom that I had experienced periodically throughout the night, I felt like it was time well spent.

A Delivery Shift at Project Angel Heart
Saturday afternoon rolled around, and I found myself sitting on a bench at the side of the street. I was sitting, with my head leaned back, sunglasses covering my eyes, and quietly chatting with Marysia and MaryKate who sat on either side of me. It was a beautiful day full of sunshine and warm weather. We sat waiting for the ride that would take us to the Project Angel Heart headquarters where we would pick up food, receive a map, and then deliver said food to the destinations pointed out on the map.
Our ride came and we loaded into the vehicle. The drive to Project Angel Heart seemed long and relaxing to the point of sleep. But perhaps it was just the car ride and the warm sun that induced the desire to sleep. Eventually we arrived at our destination. We pulled up in front of what looked like a warehouse. The doors to the building were spilling out happy, smiling people, carrying colorful bags which must have been containing food.
We all got out of the car and walked inside the building. We entered and were quickly greeted by a friendly woman. She gave us a quick tour, had us sign some paper work, and then showed us our cart full of food and us a map. We loaded everything into the car and were on our way.
Upon pulling up to the first house, I could feel my heart rate accelerate a little bit. Marysia and I hopped out of the back seat and walked around to the trunk of the car. We gathered the food bags. We walked to the front door, and rang the door bell. A minute passed and there was no sound. We exchanged confused looks and then finally heard a sound. A voice from deep within the house shouted, “Coming!” Shortly after that the door opened and a woman stood before us. She was hooked up to an oxygen tank and looked a little frazzled. But she was still very nice to us. She told us where to place the food, thanked us for the food, and that was it. She thanked us, we wished her a good day, and then we left.
We were in her life for a matter of minutes. Maybe not even that. But I still felt like I had helped. Maybe this wasn’t warranted, but I couldn’t deny feeling good that I had brought this woman a supply of food that would last her the entire week.
The rest of the day continued in a similar manner. Two of us would go to every door. We worked out a cycle taking turns delivering food. Food was brought to older men, families where sons opened the door, and many others. Before we knew it, the shift was over, and all the food that had been residing in the trunk of the car now had new owners. As insubstantial as it seemed, and as short lived as the contact was, I truly felt like I had helped others. I had partaken in giving people food that would sustain them in more ways the one. Physically, the food gave them the nutrients their bodies need. Mentally, these clients knew that people were thinking of them. They had something to look forward to in their everyday lives. They weren’t alone. And all of this was accomplished by ringing a doorbell while bearing a bag of food.

Kevin Cresswell's Service-Learning Reflection, Kitchen Shift

After Saturday’s work, Charlie, Zach, and I met for a Tuesday night of preparing food at PAH. We then were told that our job would be preparing the turkey. At first, the idea didn’t seem too bad. However, I didn’t realize the job mainly involved ripping turkey’s completely apart and removing the meet from all its bones. It was one of the most interesting experiences with food I’ve ever had and doing it for three hours was a little rough. However, what I liked about preparing the food was seeing the different types of volunteers that were also working. We interacted with several people including an older man, older woman, and mid aged man. There was also a young mother who brought her two young children in to help, which was pretty entertaining. Even so, one person stood out more than the others. He seemed to be mid twenty’s, had tattoos and piercings, and wore his head phones the whole time. I don’t think he even said one word the three hours we were there. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be there at all, and before leaving I noticed his ankle bracelet, implying he was on house arrest and had to complete community service. This was both amusing and a reality check. Before going to Project Angel Heart, I assumed everyone would be there on their own accord. And while he may have been there under orders from a higher authority, he didn’t complain, but rather chose to work contently in silence. Altogether the group was pretty diverse and interesting to work with. Right before leaving one woman we conversed with became pleasantly surprised to hear that Zach, Charlie, and I were not convicted criminals sent there to do community service, but rather students, to which I got a good laugh. Hearing that made me question my own participation, did all these people just think that we were there to complete court ordered community service? Or is there even a negative stigma associated with the younger people who serve at Project Angel Heart? It seems like while the organization as a whole creates the sense of a community, some of the members may be looked down upon, regardless for their previous actions, but simply because the way they look. Although the fact that a sense of community is even generated through volunteering to serve others is something that makes me more inclined to do it again.

After my two experiences with PAH, I really appreciate the service it provides. Not only does it provide people with food, but also a sense of appreciation to those it serves. It was clear that many of the people we delivered to were anticipating our arrival and were clearly happy to see three young men delivering their food on a Saturday. Many of the residents were alone, and probably don’t get too many visitors, making our quick delivery to their house something they look forward to weekly. Also, the work place, where the food is prepared, feels more like a social event or a gathering of friends, with almost all of them doing it because they really enjoy it. This community that PAH developed is very diverse, but almost everyone is there for the same reason: to serve others in need while working with a group of fun, dedicated people. All in all I think PAH is a terrific service and the work we did was more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I hope that now after having a little experience we will be able to produce an effective and useful writing piece that they can actually use to inspire new volunteers.

Kevin Cresswell's Service Learning Reflection, Delivery Shift

We started by delivering food last Saturday throughout the East Denver area. My fellow group members Zach, Charlie, and I were not really sure what to expect walking in. After a brief run through of our tasks and signing a few waivers we were presented with a map, directions, and several bags of food. From there, we set out to make the deliveries. Most of the houses we visited were in areas of Denver that I’ve never seen before, and didn’t even know existed. They were run down, needed fresh paint, had poorly kept lawns and in the driveways sat old, beat up cars. It was clear a lot of the people were well below the middle class. To my surprise the types of people who answered the doors were from a bunch of different backgrounds. At some houses, once the doorbell was rung we heard something quickly racing to the door, and we’re greeted by young kids all happy and cheerful to see us. Some houses almost seemed abandoned and after waiting for a few minutes at the door, no one knew if anyone would come. Then, the door handle slowly turned and a man appeared beyond the screen. It was very obvious that maneuvering around his house was not easy for him and you could almost see proud in the way he greeted. When arriving at one of our last stops, the man who lived there was already on the porch waiting for us. He was very cheerful, asking us a few things about ourselves, and even asked that we take his old bags back to PAH to be used. The common trait all these people possessed was their cheerfulness. This came as a surprise to me given their current living conditions. Knowing that people who face life threatening illnesses everyday and who don’t receive much help from their community or government can still be cheerful and grateful towards us was inspiring. After seeing that, it will be hard to look at my life and find anything that I feel has been unjust and complain about it. Not only do these people battle disease every day, but they do it with a sense of pride and dignity that is truly moving.

After this past week working with Project Angel I feel greatly rewarded. The experiences we’ve had were not only fun, but they created a real sense of community within the organization. It might sound a little conceited, being that all we had to do was deliver bags and prepare food. However, while volunteering it was quite obvious of how important Project Angel Heart really is. The people it serves truly are in pain and need assistance anyway they can get it. It was also, interesting to participate in two different aspects of the organization.

Writing Workshop Reflection...

Having mine and Alex's PAH writing pieces workshopped in class really made a difference. Although we had ideas and tried to put them into writing, it was so helpful to hear the suggestions of our peers. We though relating to individuals our age would be simple and easy to do, however when we sat down to map out ideas, we were blank! The input of the class really made sense and gave us so many new ideas to relate to our peers. We have taken all of your suggestions into consideration and believe they are all great! Thanks for your input! We are hoping to work on our posts soon and would really appreciate it if all of you as a class participated in the PAH discussion board!

writers workshop reflection

 

The writer’s workshop was very helpful to point me in the right direction to complete and perfect my writing. After working on a piece for so long the words become so familiar it is almost essential to have other eyes critique it. Also, these people were not present for the actual rhetoric event so it was good to see whether or not they understood or were interested in the lecture. I was interested to see that most people have the same reaction to the lecture as I did, at first it seemed boring, but after actually hearing the information it was fascinating. I was definitely pointed in the right direction to include more of an introduction and the set the stage of the audience. I learned that it would be beneficial to highlight upon more examples and specifics of the lecture, specifically examples of general ethics. People were also interested to hear the individual cases that he discussed along with the audience’s reactions. It was definitely an indicator that after reading my paper people had some questions about the lecture that they felt were unanswered. I now know that there are some details that people would like to hear about that I would include. I will also work on using some more synonyms to switch up my word choosing. People were also intrigued as to hear the difference between the ethics in Mongolia that I touched upon. Basically, there are areas in which I will go more in-depth. The workshop also gave me the confidence that my writing was interesting and that I was going in the right direction. 

I dreaded going to class. I had typed up a rhetorical report, or so I had thought, and had absolutely no desire to read it to the class. I walked into class on Thursday still feeling the same dread I had felt the night before. My turn to be critiqued came shortly after I arrived in class, and I began to read. I had written my paper, originally thinking it would be a rhetorical report, but upon reading it out loud to the class I quickly changed my mind. As it turned out, even reading my paper out loud to the class, the most eagerly unanticipated part of this ordeal, was helpful. It enabled me to catch many of my own mistakes. And then the input from the class was also wildly helpful. There were parts, such as the transition between my first and second paragraphs, which I would have found no fault with, but my peers were able to catch and help me fix. Another place where the input of others was great was in converting my somewhat report into analysis. Their tips were fantastic and will definitely be used in my corrections. Overall, as much as I disliked the process of peer review, it was a very helpful tool in writing a successful paper.

Zach Teves -- Reflection Kitchen Shift

For the kitchen shift, we again arrived slightly late, but to no fault of our own this time. The bus was delayed by about ten minutes and yet again, no one was upset with us, just glad to have the extra help. This time around though, because we were the latecomers, we had the very disgusting and awful task of cutting turkey. Now one may ask why cutting turkey would be so bad, but they have not experienced turkey cutting in the manner required of Charlie, Kevin, and myself. We were given close to fifteen whole turkeys and were told to pull apart, skin, and then chop these cold, greasy, dead birds. This task, for the average first time volunteer would most definitely ruin their experience of service and it did quite a number on us as well. I was not happy to be doing this task like I was to deliver food for an afternoon. No this was much worse, I felt like the man standing just a few feet from us, who was sporting a shiny, black ankle bracelet, signifying this was his deferment from jail time or a probationary measure.

As the evening continued, more turkeys were piled on our plate and the task seemed endless. Needless to say we were not happy with our task and although we did not voice this unhappiness it was quite apparent in our general demeanor towards everyone. We did not speak but amongst ourselves unless addressed by someone else and our facial expressions told our storied better than words alone could. We were not happy in the position we were in and everyone ended up helping us in any way they could. A few people began to cut and peel turkeys with us when they finished their tasks and had been told they could leave already. Another two people managed to finish their tasks around the same time as the turkey cutting had finished and cleaned our workstation for us. This ended up salvaging my negative outlook on the entire experience and turned it into a slightly positive experience, although my hands hurt from cutting for three hours and I was physically exhausted.

Seeing those people stay longer to help us, even though they had done their fair share of work was inspiring. It definitely saved the experience for me and made me want to volunteer for PAH again. We were also apologized to for being forced into the turkey cutting as they generally save that job for the more experienced volunteer and not a first time kitchen shift volunteer like use three. I was shocked to get an apology and very thankful as well. Had we not been helped or apologized to I do not think I would have ever had the motivation to volunteer for a kitchen shift again. It was a very good learning experience though I would not partake in the same task again because it truly was absolutely awful.

Zach Teves -- Reflection on Delivery Shift

Charlie, Kevin, and I arrived a few minutes late to our delivery shift at Project Angel Heart, assuming to be reprimanded, even though we had called ahead. I was initially surprised at how nice and accommodating Anne was, but came to find all those at Project Angel Heart shared these qualities. We grabbed our food and thankfully, Kevin had GPS on his iPhone, so we managed to find our route to our first destination. We found the neighborhood to be rather nice and suburban, with no obvious signs of economic constraints, which was not exactly a shock, but was surprising. The biggest drawback we found to the delivery shift was the poor directions we had received and the even poorer organization of destinations these directions provided. They were quite inefficient in regards to fuel. As we arrived at the first home, we were surprised at the condition of the woman who answered the door (our first client). Expecting someone who could barely walk, should be bed-ridden, and was on the brink of death, we were warmly welcomed by a woman in seemingly modest spirits who looked as average as anyone else you would normally see.

As the trip continued—far longer than we expected it to (nearly five hours of driving and delivering)—we found ways to keep ourselves entertained and found out quite a bit about each other. The clients, for the most part, seemed average or normal or whatever you want to call them. Anyway you call it, they did not look out of the ordinary at all and other than the one person who did not answer, every delivery worked out quite well and virtually flawlessly. For the one client who did not answer we were forced to call PAH and ask what to do. Although we did not feel comfortable with just leaving the client’s food outside the apartment entrance, PAH told us there was nothing else we could do. This did worry us quite a bit, but, as there was nothing else we could do, we did our best to ignore the bad feelings this created.

The trip, all in all, was a success and a very beneficial experience for me especially. I have not volunteered in a long time and doing this work felt great. I know this service is a dire need for those clients of PAH and I was very glad to be a part of it. I found the entire ordeal quite inspiring and fulfilling and I also learned quite a lot about my own expectations in a service experience. I know now that I should go in with a much more open mind and not jump to initial conclusions about the are I will be serving in or those people I am serving. I used to see service in a much different light than I do now. I used to think those that needed help would obviously appear to need help, not just look like your average American, however that is defined. I now realize that all people, no matter what they look like, could or do require some service that can be provided by someone else.

After the Workshop - Marysia Watson

I thought the workshop was extremely helpful.  Before coming to class, I knew some of the parts that I needed to work on.  It was great that people listened to what parts I thought needed work.  Everyone was great at picking up on what I thought was wrong and giving me ideas to improve the assignment.   After reading my piece out loud, I realized that although it was extremely informative, for what I was trying to do, it was essential that it be this way.  I felt that RFK jr used a lot of rhetorical techniques in his speech that I wanted to implicitly point out.  It was interesting to see how different Kristen's piece was compared to mine.  I will try to incorporate some of her descriptions into my piece.  Everyone was a great help, and, with a little revision, I will post my DenveRhetor description piece soon!

Writer's Reflection

Today's workshop on the DenveRhetor project was extremely beneficial for me as a rhetorical reporter. After reading my piece aloud, I already had a basic sense of what I should improve on. The class was very helpful when suggesting things that I could improve or expand or change. I enjoyed this exercise because as a writer, I often get so absorbed in my piece that it is difficult to look at it from an unbiased viewpoint. Because of this, I am grateful that I got to hear my peers' thoughts and advice.
In class, my peers mainly suggested to elaborate and expand on the content of RFK's actual lecture and to connect that to how it affected both me and those in the audience. To do this, I am going to incorporate into my paper what arguments he specifically made during the lecture as well as how he used rhetorical strategies such as ethos and kairos to appeal to his audience. I took notes during the lecture, so I will add in specific quotes that RFK said as well as their significance to his argument.
Thanks again to all of you for your wonderful and helpful insight!

PAH reflection on kitchen shift

As I made my way through the congested lanes of Colorado Boulevard, there were millions of stressful thoughts going through my mind. Would I have trouble finding it? Would I be late? And to make this situation even more stressful, I was alone. You may be wondering what I could possibly be describing and the answer is the night of my kitchen shift at Project Angel Heart. PAH is a non-profit organization that prepares meals for individuals with life-threatening diseases such as cancer, HIV/AIDS and others. It is mostly made up of volunteers and tonight I was volunteering three hours of my time to help prepare a meal. It had been on my mind all day and now it was finally time to be a big kid and face my nervousness. I found my way to PAH fairly easy with directions and was surprisingly 15 minutes early. As I turned off my car and locked it, I took a deep breath and entered the building.

Upon entering the kitchen, I was greeted by a warm, outgoing woman named Summer. She asked if I would be volunteering in the kitchen this evening and I replied yes. She then explained to me that she was the chef on duty tonight and she would get me started with my evening of volunteering. She then prompted me to put on an apron and hair covering. It was a blue apron and stylish fisherman’s hat I chose, if I remember correctly. She then had me make my way over to the sink to wash my hands. She demonstrated the proper way to sanitize your hands and I did the same, which was twenty seconds of lather with soap and rinsing with very hot water. She then asked me to grab a pair of rubber gloves and introduced me to my task of the evening. I would be peeling the skin off ten trays of cooked butternut squash with one other volunteer for meal preparation tonight. She demonstrated a fairly easy way to accomplish this and left me to my squash. I turned to my orange squash and after about five, found a successful way to peel them. As I stood peeling my squash, I took in the environment around me. I could not believe how large the kitchen was and was struck by the cleanliness of the room. There was a small radio in the corner playing a classic rock station. I observed the volunteers around me, two older men stood across from me and to my right chopping celery and singing along with the radio. The volunteer accompanying me in peeling squash was situated across from me, she was a younger woman who immediately struck up conversation. She asked if I was in college and if I had ever volunteered before. I replied with a no and she informed me that she had been volunteering every Monday night at PAH for three years. I also came into contact with the man to my right who has also been volunteering at PAH for a number of years. As time went by, I peeled my butternut squash and my mind began to wander. I thought of all the hard work and dedication these volunteers put into this organization and I also thought of my contribution. Where would this squash end up? Would it become appetizing for someone? I caught snippets of conversation going on around me. Another man talking of a new job he just applied for and all the work he needed to get done for the office. Another woman talked of her children and the obstacles of raising them. I peeled squash for three straight hours, just enjoying positive environment I was in.

The three hours of my kitchen shift seemed to fly by, and before I knew it my three hours were up. I finished my task and took my gloves off to find my hands with a tint of orange from peeling so much squash. We then wrapped our peeled squash with plastic wrap and placed it in the walk-in freezer. I then helped in sanitizing the kitchen. The counters were wiped down and the floors mopped, and one by one the volunteers filtered out of the building. As I removed my apron and hat and placed them in the pile to be washed, I thanked Summer for this wonderful opportunity. As I made my way back to DU, I reflected on my evening and felt very accomplished with myself. I immediately called my mother at home and described this experience to her. I told her of PAH and the wonderful things it does for individuals, but the topic I was most passionate about was the volunteers I had met tonight. The man with so much work to do and the woman with children and how they choose to volunteer their time to this organization when they have so many other things to do. PAH is such an amazing organization, but what makes it so successful are the volunteers who love having a part in making a positive difference.

Writer's Reflection - Kate Sanford

I would like to thank everyone for helping me with my essay on Thursday. It really helped and I have a much better idea of how to write it.
Many of you commented that I drift from the prompt in my second and third paragraphs because I get off the subject of the actual concert and begin trying to persuade my reader of why classical music is great. I have changed around both of these paragraphs so that I stick to the event and instead I elaborate on what made the pieces that were played really great.
Also, in the paragraph about Linda Wang I go more in depth to explain why her playing was so effective and also why it is so popular. I also added a bit more about why the concert hall she played in was so appealing. Let me know if anyone as any other comments!
Thanks again.

Project Angel Heart: Kitchen Shift

Upon returning to the Angel Heart offices two days after my delivery shift, I was even more surprised at the number of people in the area. I expected dozens of volunteers to be crowded inside the kitchen, preparing and packaging food. However there were about six or seven of us, total, and we still managed to prepare vast amounts of broccoli, carrots, and mushrooms for a meal that I assume will be prepared in the next few days. While cutting broccoli and mushrooms, I met a few of the other volunteers that were at Angel Heart. One of them said he is approaching his one-year mark of his Angel Heart volunteering; he volunteers in the kitchen once a week. I was particularly struck by one of the comments this volunteer made during the food preparation. He said to us, “You see a lot of people come and go. Some people are here for a while and then all of the sudden they just stop showing up, sometimes because they have fulfilled their community service requirement. But you know, help is help.” This reminded me of the discussion we had not long before in our writing class, about whether the motivation for volunteer work makes a difference. To this volunteer, the more help the better, even if it isn’t always out of the kindness of people’s hearts. It made me reflect on my own opinion on the subject; it is still hard for me to decide whether the motivation makes a difference when it comes to people volunteering. I had to do this volunteer work for our writing class, but I still enjoyed it. I wonder if there are a lot of people who volunteer in similar situations, and if it makes a difference in the big picture. I will likely need a good amount more of life experience to answer this for myself.

In the end, my volunteer time at Project Angel Heart was what I would call a positive experience. Though I did not necessarily see the direct impact the work had on clients’ lives, I did see their gratitude when their weekly meals were delivered, and I did see some of the care that goes into the preparation of meals at the Angel Heart kitchen. It is great to see people who don’t have any obligation to be there putting in time and effort to serve others meals. It is, I believe, inspirational. I think the writing we will do for Angel Heart will further expand my understanding of the difference this organization makes in people’s lives.

Project Angel Heart: Delivery Shift

When I first showed up at the offices of Project Angel Heart to begin my delivery shift, I was pretty amazed at the size of the kitchen that they had hidden inside. The area was filled with stainless steel countertops and multiple ovens and a huge freezer and numerous other devices of which I did not know the functions. While there were only a few people in the offices, the spirits seemed high. There was one volunteer, a woman of her forties or fifties, who read the rules and guidelines with us. She seemed excited to be at Angel Heart, and appeared to be about as new at volunteering there as we were. I guess I was expecting to be thrown into a mix of a bunch of regulars.

After reading the guidelines and getting a map and list of our delivery route, we loaded the car with large brown paper bags. Each bag was decorated differently. Some were not decorated at all. One bag had a collage of paper smiley faces glued to its exterior, and one was decked out in Broncos colors and insignia. All of the bags were marked with a small white sticker, indicating the name and location of the client to whom the food should be delivered. A few times I glanced inside the bags to take a peek at the goods that were creating the pleasant aroma in my car. On the top of the bags I noticed a few fresh bread rolls and a piece or two of pita bread. The meals smelled amazing. The delivery process was not quite as difficult as I had expected it to be. I thought the destinations would be spread apart and hard to find. They were actually all very close together, and fairly simple to locate. It was a little eye-opening to see some of the clients’ residences. I remember one apartment complex where the outdoor stairs seemed to be hanging on by a thread. I couldn’t imagine anyone much heavier than my weight walking safely up and down those stairs. But some of the residences were also pretty nice. I remember, in particular, one apartment building that looked like it was pulled out of a Traditional Home magazine. The exterior was composed entirely of sand-colored stones, and each apartment had its own buzzer by the front door of the building. From the short glance I got inside the building, since the client picked up his meal at the front entrance, it looked as though the apartments were spread out so that each one allowed sufficient privacy for its residents. If one thing was constant throughout the delivery shift, it was that all of the clients we delivered to seemed thankful and kind.

The delivery shift taught me that assumptions can be extremely misleading. I may not have expected to see some of the nicer homes that we did, and I may not have expected such extensive gratitude from the clients. However, anything that was a surprise to me that day was a positive one. I honestly enjoyed going on the delivery route and seeing the smiles on people’s faces when we handed them their brown paper bag. I am glad to have had this experience.

Appealing to humor

This week I went to go see Robert F. Kennedy Jr. speak. I saw it with the intention of using his speech for either my DenveRhetor analysis or report. I walked away from the speech thinking about what was effective and what wasn't. The parts where I felt most connected to him were when he used humor. When he made a joke, or told the truth in a particularly funny way, I felt more inclined to sympathize with him. At a few parts of his lecture he pointed out the inefficiency of cars. He said in a way that made everybody in the room chuckle. His blunt humor made the principle of a car seem ridiculous. I'm fairly certain that if he had merely said the same facts without the joke, I would have been far less impressed by what he was sharing. His jokes were simple and easily understood. Another time when humor proved successful in conveying the direness of a situation was in the article we read in class the other day. Susan Greene used humor to share the debate going on in Denver schools about what should be sold in vending machines. It seemed nearly unanimous around the class that one of our favorite parts of the article was where Greene talked about the student selling sodas out of his locker. Her dry, sarcastic humor appealed to us for some reason. When dealing with rhetor, why is it that humor appeals? Or why doesn't it? If humor doesn't work for you, then what does?

Kristen Elliott's Kitchen Shift Reflection

After surviving the rush hour traffic congesting Colorado Blvd, Alex, Katie, and I rushed into the unremarkable warehouse fearing we were late. Breathless, we entered the building to find it almost completely empty. I turned to Alex with a perplexed look on my face, but before I had the chance to voice my confusion, a boisterous woman wearing an apron and a name tag designating her as, “Joy,” swept down upon us. With an enormous smile, she handed us each a sharp knife and left us alone in the room just as swiftly as she had arrived. My fellow students and I had arrived at the headquarters for Project Angel Heart, an organization that prepares and delivers nutritional meals to people who have life-threatening illnesses such as cancer, HIV, and AIDS. Today we were volunteering our time to assist Project Angel Heart prepare meals in the kitchen. As soon as Joy had left us, we turned around to find massive containers filled with carrots, broccoli, and mushrooms. We joined the few other apron-bearing workers at one of the several long meal preparation tables and got to work.

At first, we worked in silence. The sounds of ten knives quickly chopping through vegetables filled the large kitchen, as well as the soft background noise of a stereo playing a classic rock station. There was sparse chitchat among the other workers, from which we were excluded. It quickly became apparent that the others were familiar with one another, having spent weeks or even years working the same Monday night shift together. While working, they casually caught up on everything from family matters to the previous night’s football game. Alex, Katie, and I stood together listening and vigorously chopping, occasionally chatting with one another about school and classes. When an elderly man next to me finally broke the segregation between the new and old volunteers, I breathed a sigh of relief; “Are you girls in college?” he inquired friendlily. We quickly nodded yes, pleased to be invited into the conversation. The man across the table from us revealed that he had been volunteering every Monday for the last year and a half. I listened as Joy discussed the hassles of childcare. The older man beside me quizzed me on the songs pouring from the radio, and told me about the different places he had lived and seen throughout his lifetime. Within an hour of hacking the heads off of broccoli, we had succeeded in both filling the immense containers as well as becoming a part of Project Angel Heart’s unique and tightly knit community.

As we were closing in on our last hour of volunteering, my mind began to wander. I had been chopping mushrooms for so long that my hands knew what to do on their own. I stared at the crates of vegetables, wondering where it would end up and whom it would feed. How would this one mushroom go on to improve someone’s life? What would that person go on to do once they have their energy back? It’s amazing how positively one meal can affect someone.
The vegetables had been chopped, the knives washed, and the floors mopped; it was time for us to leave. Now that I had become so comfortable with what I was doing and the people I had met, I didn’t want to abandon it. It had never been so difficult for me to fit in with other volunteers, and I didn’t want to give up all my work so quickly! I had always assumed that volunteers shared the common desire to want change, and this alone would connect us. What I didn’t realize was that there were so many different reasons and motives to volunteer at all. The people I met in that kitchen had their own busy lives with their own worries and their own struggles. When I learned about them individually, I appreciated even more why they were there. Joy had children to look after and to feed, and yet she was here working for an organization that makes a difference in her community even if she didn’t get paid as much as a private company could offer her. She sacrificed money to work for Project Angel Heart. People like Joy are everywhere, forgoing their own success to have a positive impact on their community. To me, this is an inspiration. The hours of seemingly repetitive and monotonous chopping suddenly seem worth this realization that truly caring people are everywhere, doing truly amazing things for their peers and society.

Kristen Elliott's Delivery Reflection

The January wind howled as our car flew past the urban sprawl of Denver. I silently peered out the window as the driver and front-seat passenger conversed about directions and street names. We were on our way to volunteer at Project Angel Heart, an organization that prepares and delivers meals for people with life-threatening illnesses within the Denver region. We were in the process of finding our way to their headquarters so that we could pick up a delivery route. After twenty-five minutes of pleasant chatter and spectacular 90’s music humming through the car speaker, we finally pulled into Project Angel Heart’s parking lot. I hopped out of the car, trying to conceal my excitement and anticipation.

After filling out paperwork and learning the rules and guidelines that we were expected to follow, we headed out to deliver the meals. The considerable number of regulations we had to follow surprised me; we couldn’t enter the client’s home, we couldn’t mention anything about the organization to the client’s family or neighbors, and we couldn’t ask the client how they were feeling. After reading the lengthy list, I decided that Project Angel Heart was being overly cautious. Where any of these rules significant to what I was going to do? My job was to simply drop off the food at the client’s front door. Even I couldn’t screw that up! After returning to the car to begin our deliveries, I thought deeper about why these rules might be necessary. I tried to picture myself as the client and realized that these guidelines would help protect my privacy. I wouldn’t want a volunteer accidentally spreading the gossip to my neighbors that I had a life threatening illness. Would my neighbors treat me differently? Would it offend me if the volunteer knowingly asked me how I was feeling? I realized that these expectations were enormously important for the organization to enforce in order to maintain a high standard of service towards its clients. When we finally arrived at the first house, I walked up to the door with a new found appreciation and respect for Project Angel Heart and its mission.

I’m not quite sure what my expectations were for that first delivery, but what we saw wasn’t it; instead of the low-income, urban homes I expected to be delivering to, we instead made our way deep into the heart of Denver’s suburbia. Row after row of middle-class residences passed us on our way to the first house. We finally discovered the location of our first delivery after circling around the apartment complex several times. My stomach churned as I grabbed the correct bag and followed my classmates, Milly and Kate, up the sidewalk towards the building. Milly boldly knocked on the door. Several minutes passed with no answer. Unsure, we knocked again, harder this time. Someone stirred inside and minutes later the door slowly and tentatively creaked open. Halfway hidden by the immense shape of the door, this small man seemed comparatively minute. He was thin and wore oxygen tubes. He moved cautiously, as if he was uncertain whether we were harmless or if we would leap towards him screaming at any moment. He slowly reached his arm towards us, not saying a word, and grasped the brown paper bag packed with enough food to sustain him for the week. Still silent, he nodded towards us and slowly closed the door again. Slightly disappointed with his diminutive reaction, I walked away from the house and once again got into the car with my mind racing.

We visited four other clients that day, within a ten-mile radius of our first stop. Some, like the first man we visited, barely acknowledged us as they accepted their large paper bags. Others would express their gratitude verbally. More commonly, they would share with us secret smiles that we could clearly interpret as a response comparable to, “Thank you.” Each person we met reacted to us in a different way. I thought about how close these houses were in proximity to one another. Did their neighbors know? Did the sick people whom we delivered to know one another? How many sick people are in my community, silently suffering like the ones I met today? There could be people I know personally who keep their illnesses to themselves; my peers and I would never know. If I were suffering from a life-threatening illness, would I tell anyone? Would I seek help?

After weeks of reflection, the initial disappointment with my volunteering experience has now been replaced with a curiosity for why I felt this way. Was I expecting more gratitude from the clients I met? Was I expecting more appreciation from the staff of Project Angel Heart instead of their long list of strict rules? After answering these questions, I am ashamed and embarrassed that my motives for volunteering were so self-centered and egotistical. This organization was not created, after all, so that volunteers like me could feel good about themselves for giving back to the community. Project Angel Heart is first and foremost an organization purely for the benefit of sick people who need help with the most basic of human necessities: food. It didn’t matter that all I got was a quick smile in exchange for a bag full of meals. Their impending health and prosperity should be enough for my own appetite for gratitude. This realization has become a defining factor in my life when prioritizing values and discovering the motives that makes me who I am. After I delivered my first meal for Project Angel Heart, I believed that I had selflessly given my time and energy for someone in need. What I have found, however, is that I traded that time for something significant in the most discreet ways. I was humbled by this experience, and it has changed me for the better.

Project Updates--DenveRhetor and Project Angel Heart

To make sure that everyone is up to speed on their current projects, I'd like you to post an update here on our course blog about what you're up to. This will help us see where everyone is at, as well as alerting us to questions, concerns, or challenges that we may be facing.

First, give us a detailed description of the status of both your writing project for Project Angel Heart and your work thus far on DenveRhetor. Then, share with us any questions you have about these assignments or challenges that you are facing. How can we help out? Conversely, feel free to share any exciting news or something that has gone well so far.

Marysia's Reflections on the Kitchen Shift

            During the deliveries I made the previous week, I didn’t realize how much work went behind making those meals.  On Tuesday, January 20, walking into the kitchen with Kate and Jenn, I was surprised with how organized the food production was and how monotonous, but essential all the tasks were.  As I bagged over 400 pita folds, the meal from Jerusalem’s came to mind.  The garlic hummus, mouth-watering meat, crunchy vegetables and warm pita were so delicious.  I hope these meals are as appetizing as the one I had the other night.  After passing the desserts that were being separated, my stomach growled.  They looked so good.  That made me happy because if I am craving it, I am pretty sure other people are really enjoying it.  Although this work may be boring, the monotonous chopping of vegetables and trying to shove the same pita into the same bag 200 times, it does go somewhere.  It may seem like you are doing nothing with your time, but in reality you are helping the program continue.  If we would not have bagged those buns and pitas, who knows if they would have gotten everything done. 

            As I grab the next bag that will hold the next pita, my mind begins to wonder as one might expect while doing a mundane job.  I imagine the journey that this little bag of pita will go on.  Hopefully, it will be filled with fresh vegetables, hummus, and some meat.  It should give the eater a great meal that makes them feel ready for the day and full of energy to read a great book or talk to their grandchildren or children.  Maybe this pita will spark up a philosophical discussion about the Greeks or make the person want to dream about traveling to the Mediterranean and living in a white house on the beach.  

            Ok, so maybe these bagged pitas won’t bring on these conversations, but as long as they give someone the power to use their most unique part of their body, their brain, to make them feel better about life and themselves I will be satisfied.

            Everything has to be done step by step to make this organization work.  It is the combination of all the hands involved that form the meals and love that nourish the bodies of the sick.   Those peppers that were cut and pitas that were bagged will contribute to the health of Denver’s community and bring on the energy needed to live and discover the other avenues of life and their self-potential.  The mundane job I participated in will hopefully bring color and adventure to the other people’s lives that may seem mundane.  Sometimes the most monotonous activities can help others have the strength to participate in their own adventures, which is exactly what the clients of Project Angel Heart need.  I was glad I could provide them with this opportunity.  

Marysia's Reflections on the Delivery Shift

On Saturday, January 10, Professor Bateman, MaryKate, Jennifer, and I arrived at Project Angel Heart a little late, but still ready for the delivery adventure. We walked into the building - a blank one-story building with a poster proclaiming that this is where Project Angel Heart was greeted us. We walked through the doors and meet one of the organizers. After seeing the 90 other satellite sights on a map of Denver, we proceeded to a room to sign some documents. The documents stated that you could not greet a person that you served food to but that you had to wait for them to greet you first. Also, you could not tell the neighbors why you were at a client’s house. I was surprised by how serious they were about the confidentiality of the people served. It makes sense that they need to be this way, but I would not mind saying hi to someone that I gave a meal to. It just shows that this is about the people we are helping, not so much about us. It is important that clients feel comfortable with this organization because it is their lives at stake and they should have control over who knows about their health.

After putting the meals in the car, we set out to find the first house on Wheeling Way. I looked at the map, wondering what lied beneath these addresses – who would greet me at the door? Would they be excited to see me or disappointed that other person has to see their suffering? Would all the people answer their doors? Jen and I found the two bags for the first house. As we walked up to the door, I felt as if someone already knew we were there. A dog started barking. Jen went for the knocker, but before she could figure out how to use it – it didn’t work very well, the door opened. An older African- American woman greeted us. She seemed happy to see us. We carried in the food to the kitchen as she asked us how we were feeling. She seemed like she craved someone to talk to and I felt like I wanted to stay there longer, but I knew I could not. We smiled at her and left. When we entered the car, MaryKate commented on how quick it was, which was the exact thought that just crossed my mind. Professor Bateman commented on how most volunteering is anticlimactic. It was an interesting and true observation. In most community service activities, you are just asked to do easy tasks that you would normally do at home. We have to realize that this is all that is needed; a little bit of help to get a person’s day moving – what our parents, family, and friends give to us.

At the next house, MaryKate and I knocked on the door. Again, we did not have to wait long. Everyone at the five houses we went to seemed to be waiting for us and excited to see us. Although I was walking into complete strangers homes, I felt so at home. It was like I was just part of their family and bringing in the groceries.

I learned that through small acts of kindness, like greeting a person with a smile, can really make a person’s day. I mean it made my day to see the people I was helping give me a smile. It helps to know that other people care about you even when they don’t even know you. Whenever someone takes care of me or I help them, a special bond is formed and love is exchanged . I also learned that it is normal to feel a little nervous when you start something new. But, most people are there to help you so I almost feel no need to be nervous. With each act of kindness, I feel a little bit more comfortable with myself.

Kate Sanford Service Learning Reflection Kitchen Shift

I love to cook, and I know how hard it is to keep a kitchen clean. I can’t even imagine keeping a kitchen as big as a basketball court clean! I couldn’t imagine it, until I went to Project Angel Heart. All the tables and food were extremely orderly, and everybody seemed like they knew exactly what they were doing and had a system to it. Each area was designated to a particular task, and all the food was categorized and stacked neatly. The tile floor and metal tables were squeaky clean and the air was fresh.

I must admit, I was a little intimidated when I first put on my apron and hat on and walked through the kitchen. The orderliness and cleanliness of the kitchen made it obvious that they had particular ways of doing things and I was a little worried that I might do something wrong. There is a lot of pressure to do things right when others are dependent on you. But, there was no time to stop and think, and the main chef that evening put us right to work.

There are numerous jobs to be done throughout the week to actually put all the food together so it is ready to be delivered. However each one of the jobs takes quite a long time. Something as simple as chopping a pepper can take hours because when you are feeding 700 people, you have to chop at least 700 peppers. There is more than one person working on the job, but it stills seems like a massive amount of food.

The first think I was assigned to do was to package bread rolls in a bag. One bread roll in one bag, to be specific. After 15 minutes I had hardly made a dent in the box of bread rolls and I felt like that is all I would be doing for the rest of the night. To make the time go by, I tried to think of every person I would be giving food to. That way, instead of thinking about how many bread rolls there were, I was thinking about how many people I was helping. It helped significantly and before I knew it, I was done.

After I packaged more bread than I think I have ever seen in my entire life, the chef came out with about 50 stacks of pita bread. Apparently there is a lot of bread in the world.

As the night went on, I became more and more comfortable with what I was doing and there seemed to be a common feeling of contentment in the room. Everybody knew they were helping, and everybody seemed like they were in a good mood.

By the end of the night I was actually in a good mood and was very content about the task I had just completed. Not because I had just become a total expert at opening and closing plastic bags, but because next time those bags are opened, it will be with thankful hands. Once again, I was filled with the feeling of goodness from helping others.

Kate Sanford Service Learning Reflection Delivery Shift

It seems it is human nature to try and picture something or predict what it will be like before one actually experiences it. This is exactly what I had done with Project Angel Heart before I had begun volunteering there. I knew that my job would involve driving around to different houses, but I had no idea what the nature of it would be like.

Upon arriving to pick up the food we were going to deliver, I was amazed at the organization and cleanliness of the kitchen and offices at Project Angel Heart. Also, the food looked phenomenal! The bags were filled with brightly colored vegetable soups and freshly made breads. It was difficult to not drool at the chocolate colored treats. It made it even more appetizing to think that it came from such a clean and fresh smelling place. It didn’t take me long before I concurred that PHA had quite a “method to the madness.” After all, they prepare food for approximately 700 people each week. It made me realize how important all the volunteers were in getting this job done. Without so much help from people in the Denver community, extremely sick people might not receive any help and would be left struggling. Although the task I would be carrying out that day would be small, it made me realize that all the small tasks put together are what make such an extraordinary product.

My professor, several other girls, and I loaded up the bags of food in the car and headed to a neighborhood located in the outskirts of Denver. To my surprise, it was just like any other neighborhood I would expect in the suburbs, and the people we were delivering to seemed like any other person one might see on the street. All of us walked up to the door, rang the doorbell, smiled and said hello, and handed them their delicious looking food. Unfortunately several people weren’t there so we just left the deliver outside the door with a note. I’m not sure how to explain what I had expected before, but for some reason I was quite surprised at the experience. It made me realize that people don’t have to be in a hospital bed to be extremely sick. Or perhaps this helps people to live a normal life and not be in a hospital bed when they are dying of a disease.

At first, driving around a random neighborhood seemed a little mundane, but after realizing how happy and thankful people were after delivering the food, it made the job we were doing seem extremely fun. One lady made so many nice comments to us that I though she might invite us in for a cup of tea. “Thanks you girls, be careful, have a great day, see you later,” she said. Upon walking up to the door I always felt a little sorrow for what these people were experiencing but it also made me very content to make these people feel like others cared and wanted to help them. I also felt proud of how delicious the food in the bag looked (even though I had nothing to do with that part… yet).

This normal, Saturday afternoon, opened my eyes to more than I had expected. I had specifically taken a service learning class to experience and learn about volunteering, but it hit me harder than I thought. I all of the sudden felt like it was a duty for every community member to put a little work into help into their community, because one day they may be the ones who need that help. Although I had been giving the gift of food all day, I also felt like I had received a gift of being content and joyful. It made me realize that being a good person and helping others was one of the best achievements in life.

WEEKLY BLOG

This past Tuesday I was on my way to work at my kitchen shift for Project Angel Heart. One of my friends kindly lent me her car so I could get there easily. On my way out, I was reversing the car in the parking lot and reversed straight into a pole. The entire back window smashed. I could not believe what had just happened. In disbelief, I got out of the car to assess the damage. My first reaction was that I had to go to Project Angel Heart or I was going to be late. After a frantic call to my older sister we decided that I could not leave the car in the parking lot without a back window, leaving easily accessibility to any thief. After returning back to school much later and dealing with the inevitable drama of a car accident all my friends were appalled that something so horrible could happen when I was on my way to serve the community. One boy was very upset saying, “That’s what you get for doing a good deed.” This made me thing about people’s connotations with community service. What do people say to you when you declare you are going to serve the community? What are people’s general reactions to doing selfless act without any strings attached? This particular thought did not cross my mind, I do not expect to be rewarded for doing a kind act. To me, that is just the same thing as saying, “Why would I hold the door open for this elderly lady, what good will it do me?” One cannot debate every action they do and the consequences that it will lead to. I do not contemplate all decision is my life, is that a good or bad thing? It means I am more impulsive and act on first reactions. At the same time it means I am more inclined to do something that will benefit others. How do you react in these impulsive situations and how does that effect your life? 

delivery shift reflection

It was on a gloriously sunny Saturday morning that I, along with two of my classmates joined Professor Bateman on a delivery shift for Project Angel Heart. I was not entirely sure what to expect, but I knew that I was anxious to begin my work with Project Angel Heart. We had talked so much in class about what we were going to be doing and about the experiences we had previously to the class. The kitchen itself was not what I anticipated at all. In my mind, I had a stereotypical image of a soup kitchen pictured. Instead, it really was just an ordinary, much larger, kitchen. There were average looking large conventional ovens and a series of stovetops. This emphasized in my head the fact that most of the work that was done was behind the scenes, All of the community service I had done prior to this class included direct involvement with community members.

The part I was most excited for on the delivery shift was the interaction with the project’s clients. I was aware that they were obviously sick and needy to qualify for Project Angel Heart, but I was unsure how they would react to us coming. Would they resent us? Would they think we were just there to fulfill a requirement? How did they feel at someone knocking on their door and delivery their weekly meals? My questions were not really answered through my experience. The encounters with the project’s clients were extremely limited. I wasn’t expecting to be invited in for a coffee, but I thought that perhaps a little more dialogue would have been passed between us. I anticipated a more social experience, but came to realize that at the end of the day I was providing a service for them. What was in my job description was no different that someone delivery the mail, or dropping off a UPS package. The fact that one man literally opened the door, took the package and closed it again should not really have to come to much of a surprise. I was also taken a back at the amount of people who were not home for the schedule delivery. People were aware when their delivery was to take place, if it were be I would make sure to be home. I would not want my week’s food sitting outside my doorstep. This was the only flaw in the plan that Project Angel Heart had discovered. On the other hand, one man was so anxious for his delivery that he was waiting outside on the sidewalk for us to come. It did not seem like people were very grateful or excited about their delivery. It was almost as though they had become so accustomed to it coming that they didn’t think about the preparation put into it. The visits of Project Angel Heart had become a habit, something that they have gotten used to. Although I do not believe the volunteers should be shown gratitude it would seem fit for the clients to at least shown some enthusiasm to the efforts being made to better their lives.

As we continued along our journey, I thought to myself that doing this delivery shift on a weekly basis was such a small sacrifice to make in comparison to the good it was bringing to so many people. I began to think to myself that this would be something I would like to make a part of my personal routine, to do my part for the community. However, after meeting more clients I realized that I would be better off working in an interaction environment with a community of people. The direct social interaction with people is an atmosphere that I thrive in and feel that I can make more of a difference than doing behind the scenes work. In conclusion, I enjoyed my experience on the delivery shift, but would rather invest my time into an interactive experience.